fritz

About 20 miles from the ranch where I was born and raised, there was a training base for WW2 pilots. They flew the AT-6 Texan (I believe it was called) but it has been a long time ago. Like 1944. They would practice dog fights over our ranch, and at least three of them crashed, two on our place and another on a neighbor's farm. My dad had an old Mexican ranch hand (he was legal) living close to where one of them came to rest. The pilot got out by 'chute, but the other pilot didn't make it. They came and carried his body out on sheets. The old Mexican lived about a half mile from the ranch house, and my dad said he came running up saying something in Spanish that sounded like "Caramba! Aeorplano!" It crashed within yards of his house, and he was really shakened. It happened often that two planes would collide, and there are still two craters (from different crashes) on that place. We sold the land years ago, but I found many pieces of the old planes in the craters. The Army Air Force would remove as much as they could find, but I found parts scattered arround the ranch for years. One part was a complete radial cylinder from the engine. Far from the crater. Those were dangerous times, here as well as overseas, for the pilots who trained for combat. Many of them did not make it to where the war was fought. fritz

Hey, give the champ credit---at least he did not bite someones's ear off! It pays to have friends in high places. All of mine live on the first floor (or the basement). But, as the old song says, "I got friends in low places". fritz

Tony, I tried re-registering, but it don't work. Bill has better security than our airports, our border patrol, our schools, and everything but our privacy from the Bush administration. Is there a secret to registering there? Not that I really want to, but I have always been a curious fellow. Sometimes curiousity kills the cat. I have been killed by Bill (hey, that rhymes). It seems that "once banned, always banned". I can still read what the idiots over there talk about, but cannot post, because I am not a member of the Elite Squad. What the hell! fritz

A fart it is a pleasant thing, > It gives the belly ease, > It warms the bed in winter, > And suffocates the fleas. > > A fart can be quiet, > A fart can be loud, > Some leave a powerful, > Poisonous cloud > > A fart can be short, > Or a fart can be long, > Some farts have been known > To sound like a song > > A fart can create > A most curious medley, > A fart can be harmless, > Or silent , and deadly. > > A fart might not smell, > While others are vile, > A fart may pass quickly, > Or linger a while > > A fart can occur > In a number of places, > And leave everyone there, > With strange looks on their faces. > > From wide-open prairie, > To small elevators, > A fart will find all of > Us sooner or later. > > That farts are all bad, > Is simply not true- > We must never forget > Sweet old farts like you! > fritz

Where there's a will there's always a way! A farmer stopped by the local mechanic shop to have his truck fixed. They couldn't do it while he waited, so he said he didn't live far and would just walk home. On the way home he stopped at the hardware store and bought a bucket and a gallon of paint. He then stopped by the Feedstore and picked up a couple of chickens and a goose. However, struggling outside the store he now had a problem - how to carry his entire purchases home. While he was scratching his head he was approached by a little old lady who told him she was lost. She asked, "Can you tell me how to get to 1603 Mockingbird Lane?" The farmer said, "Well, as a matter of fact, my farm is very close to that house. I would walk you there but I can't carry this lot." The old lady suggested, "Why don't you put the can of paint in the bucket. Carry the bucket in one hand; put a chicken under each arm and carry the goose in your other hand?" "Why thank you very much," he said and proceeded to walk the old girl home. On the way he says "Let's take my short cut and go down this alley. We'll be there in no time." The little old lady looked him over cautiously then said, "I am a lonely widow without a husband to defend me. How do I know that when we get in the alley you won't hold me up against the wall, pull up my skirt, and have your way with me?" The farmer said, "Holy smokes lady! I'm carrying a bucket, a gallon of paint, two chickens, and a goose. How in the world could I possibly hold you up against the wall and do that?" The old lady replied, "Set the goose down, cover him with the bucket, put the paint on top of the bucket, and I'll hold the chickens." fritz

Drafting Guys Over 60 I'm over 60 and the Armed Forces say I'm too old to track down terrorists. (You can't be older than 42 to join the military.) They've got the whole thing backwards.. Instead of sending 18-year-olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35. For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. If we can't kill the enemy we'll complain them into submission. "My back hurts! I'm hungry! Where's the remote?" An 18-year-old hasn't had a legal beer yet and you shouldn't go to war until you're at least old enough to drink. The average old guy, on the other hand, has consumed 126,000 gallons of beer, and a jaunt through the desert heat with a beer and an M-60 would do wonders for the old beer belly. (Note there are 24 hours in a day and 24 bottles in a case...another convenient way to measure time!) An 18-year-old doesn't like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee. If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser. Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we like soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We like them almost better than naps. They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. I can hear the Drill Sgt now, "Get down and give me .. er ... one." Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy. I've never seen anyone outrun a bullet. An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, to carry on a conversation, and to wear pants without the top of his butt crack showing and his shorts sticking out. He's hasn't figured out that a pierced tongue catches food particles, and that a 400-watt speaker in the back seat of a Honda can rupture an eardrum, and that a baseball cap has a brim to shade eyes, not the back of his head. These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten cowards who attacked us on September 11. The last thing an enemy would want to see right now is a couple of million old farts with attitudes. Share this with your senior friends. It's purposely in big type so you can read it. They should also draft the older, cranky women with an attitude. That would REALLY scare 'em!!! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- fritz

Jerry, I wonder if that Levine started the chain stores named Levines? We had one in Victoria in the early '70s, and my brother-in-law bought a Winchester 94 from them for about 90 bucks. He recently donated it to the Catholic church fund drive auction, and it brought $550. It was not a pre-64, but some fellow was generous. I know, and share your feelings about the Jewish store keepers. Much of my clothes were bought from a store in Cuero that was run by a Jewish man. It was the only clothes my mother could afford for me. Not Macy's, but damned good clothes at a reasonable price. There was no German vs Jew boycott around here. Those that spoke badly of Jewish people were narrow minded individuals. One occasion comes to mind---I was wanting a white sport coat for my eight grade prom, and my mom took me to the Jewish storekeeper. She balked at the price he wanted, but he replied, "What is money? Tomorrow they may drop the big bomb on us?" She bought the sport coat, and I went to the prom in style. The storekeeper actually expected his customers to bargain with him. And what was wrong with that? Maybe we need to start doing that with the oil companies and the governmental agencies that are taking us to the cleaners (and the cleaners are not being run by Jews). fritz

Tony, How long is it going to be before you get banned? I guess, as long as you do not engage His Holiness Bill in a confrontation, He will let you post. BTW, I see you are now using a new user name. Do you think it will work for me? fritz

A friend brought me five rifles yesterday, sight in four and lenghten the stock on the fifth. That one is a Savage Model 99F in .243 caliber. He had it cut down for a kid, and now the kid is grown up. I will remove the recoil pad, add a wood spacer of approx. the amount he had removed, and then cover the whole mess with a Pachmeyer Slip-On pad. It's the easiest way out. A new stock for the 99 would be the best, but---- The others were two 30/06 bolt actions that he is going to use on an elk hunt (Colorado, I presume) but maybe somewhere else. I zeroed them in at two inches high at 100 yards. He is going to bring ne some elk meat. And I have no doubt he will hit what he aims at. Two others were .22s, one was a brand new Marlin Model 60 with a Nikon scope. Man, did that thing shoot good. The other was an old pump .22 (either a Remington or a Winchester, I did not have time to see as it was starting to rain). The next thing I have to do is put a new scope on some fellow's .220 Swift. BTW, all we got was a drizzly one tenth of an inch. The drought is on. fritz

"Who is raking it in? The IRS !!' Very true. But let me add the scenario where they strike a gold mine (or an oil well) on your property. In this case, the county tax appraisers for the county, the school district (the BIG one), and any other taxing entity you may have in your county, steps in and collects also. And the BIG difference between a county tax appraiser and the IRS is simply this-----you only pay the IRS what you make on this gold mine (or oil well). The county taxing entities will tax you on the appraised value of the gold mine (or oil well). It matters not if the gold mine (or oil well) peters out after a few months, and you do not receive much income from it----the local taxing entities will tax you on the INITIAL POTENTIAL of the gold mine (or oil well). It is not uncommon to pay the county tax entities a bloated appraisal until the gold mine (or oil well) is plugged and abandoned. This sometimes takes years before the mining (or oil) companies decide to abandon it. The IRS only taxes you for what you received in income from the mine (or well). An income tax is always much fairer than a sales tax, a bloated appraisal value on your land, or any other "fee" or whatever they call it in states that do not have state income taxes. If you make it----pay it. Think about it. Or maybe GW Bush should have thought about that before giving the big oil companies the huge tax breaks. I wonder if he gave the gold mining industry the same tax breaks. I believe you know the answer to that. Dick Cheney is only into oil. fritz

"There are alot of abandoned gld mines in Arizona. Many were left after the return per ton was to low." Well, the price of gold right now is at a record high. Maybe they just mined out all the good stuff, if the return per ton was too low. Maybe they should move over and dig somewhere else (like I am going to do). There is still gold to be found in this country, just as there is oil to be found. The old prospectors missed a lot of gold, when it was only $16/ounce. Last I read, it was over $700/ounce, and gaining because of the weak American dollar (thanks to our administration). No, gold is where you find it. Always has been, always will be. My oil well has a better chance of coming in if the price of crude keeps rising. And it looks like that is happening. I once had a gas well that produced for 12 years (during the '90s). The most I got for an mcf of gas was $3.50, and that was only at the very last when the well was depleting. Talk about being born before the yellow pages, my well depleted itself under low prices. I have a small part of my portifolio in gold, and it still ain't doing what it should. Same thing I hear from friends that have Exon/Mobil stock---the price of oil goes up, but not the dividends on the stock. Who is raking it in? fritz

Do not, I repeat, do not mince one up for using in a sop for barbecue, then forget to wash your hands. I always wash my hands AFTER using the rest room, not BEFORE. But I will from now on. My privates are on fire, and it's the damned jalapeno's fault! Words to the wise, fritz

The Lost Dutchman found a cave, and in the cave were stacks of gold bars. But when he returned, the cave had collapsed. No one has been able to find it again, but I believe it was there. It's enough to keep people looking for it, though I doubt if it will ever be discovered again. The Superstition Mountains still hold their secret. fritz

The title of an old movie starring Willie Nelson, now I am in pursuit of it also. But unlike Willie and his outlaw buddies, I am looking for it in the ground. Raw, virgin (maybe) gold. Gold that is rumored to be buried on my ranch. The way the story goes is that this was once a main stagecoach road, between the mission on the Guadalupe river and the mission on the San Antonio River at Goliad. The road ran right through my ranch. I can still see the old ruts of the wagons, and the tall liveoaks have a definite space between them (the road). The story goes that a stagecoach was going to be robbed by bandits, and the driver of the coach buried the gold shipment beside the road, then went on his way. It was convincing enough that the previous owner of my ranch spent a large part of his life digging holes alongside the road. When my father bought the land from him, back in the late 30's, he would watch every move my father made. When my father bought a new tractor, a new truck, and a new car, all in the same year----he was convinced that my father had found the gold. How else could he afford all those things? The fact was, of course, that my father had saved up money (hard earned) to be able to buy what he needed to continue farming. My father was never a spendthrift. He was, after all, a German farmer. Over the years, I have used a metal detector to try to locate that gold. On the spot where the old fellow dug a big hole, by shovel) I passed the metal detector over many times. Nothing. But nearby I found numerous artifacts of those days---spent rimfire cases of .40 or .45 caliber ammo. And all kinds of cast iron junk, I assumed that someone had used the spot as a dump. One day I hired a bulldozer to dig a garbage pit over that old hole. I told the operator that I was going to look at each layer of soil that he dozed up. We got down to about 6 feet, and nothing. I made a garbage dump out of it. Now it is filled and covered over, and metal readings are abundant. Time to move over and try again---just like the oil companies do when they strike a dry hole. A few years ago, with an old White's metal detector, I was searching the spot where an oil company had spent an entire year drilling the third deepest hole in the country. I now owned the land where this steam rig drilled down to 13,500' in the 40's. They could not control the pressure at that depth, and it was only gas anyway (worthless in the 40's). So they made a shallow oil well out of it, a stripper. Many bearings in those days were babbited, some with bronze, and they would melt the old bronze out and pour new bearings. Where the melted bronze fell, it got mixed into the dirt, forever to be forgotten. But not forever. I found a few "nuggets" of that molten bronze with my metal detector. They looked just like gold nuggets. I filled my hand with them, and showed them to my sister---with the story that I finally found that gold that everybody was looking for. Well, not everybody, my father always dismissed the story as myth. He was, after all, a German farmer. My sister was taken aback for a moment, but I had to let the cat out of the sack and tell her that it was bronze, not gold. Today I bought a new state-of-the-art White's metal detector. I went back to the spot where I found the "nuggets" and immediately got a reading. But it was just an old piece of oil field junk, and the ground is so hard now with our lack of rainfall, that further digging was fruitless. I did get a reading at another spot and the digging was surprisingly easy. I believe I found the old wellbore. But it's still a dry hole! Someday. fritz

Well, in Texas we have a team that has only been beaten once, by the Patriots. I suppose everyone assumes that, if you live in Texas, you must be for the Cowboys. I'm not. I do not like the way that their owner (Jerry Jones) calls the plays instead of leaving that to the coach. I am surprised Parcells lasted as long as he did, he was no yes-man. Then when Jerry defied logic and hired the showboat T.O., he lucked out and came up with a winning team. There are two pro teams in Texas, and the weird thing is that Bum Phillips used to coach the Houston team (known as the Oilers in those days), and now his son Wade coaches the Cowboys. Bum Phillips has a ranch here in Goliad county, and he can be seen often in the small country cafes (beer joints) here. He is a true gentleman. He never wore his Stetson in the AstroDome, because it had a roof over it. But his trademark today remains the big western hat, it is displayed on his ranch vehicles. I wish the Houston Texans had a better year, but they are a young team and are improving. I believe they only won one game their first year. fritz

Thanks Az, More people need to communicate what happened in those days, and I thank you for it. fritz

We have a mom and pop lumber yard in my town, and you can buy one bolt, or a box. Nails are sold by the pound, weighed out, and I can buy them there (a pound or so at a time) cheaper than the big discount lumber yards in the next town. Even a full box of 50# at the big stores costs more than the same 50 pounds sold here one pound at a time. When I remodeled my house, I bought much of the framing lumber and the siding from the local store. They beat the price on 2x12 boards and all but the sale-priced studs at the big stores. And they deliver free on a large order. We used to have three lumber yards here, a movie theatre, bowling alley, four car dealerships (Ford, Chevy, GMC, and Plymouth). Now we have one lumber yard, one over-priced Ford dealer, no movie theatre, no bowling alley. But we do have a golf course now. We used to have four grocery stores, now one over-priced one. It burned down a few years ago, and the town (in tears for losing the only grocery store) paid tax money collected from hotel and tourism taxes to help them rebuild. And they repaid the favor by screwing us even more on food prices! We are only a class 3A school (in terms of athletics) and barely so at that. We used to be 2A. But we are considered a "rich" district because of all the oil and gas revenues coming into the school coffers. That still did not satisfy the school superintendent, who wrangled an 8 million dollar bond election to pass. Seems that he wanted a new gym (he calls it an activity center) and other facilities that will make us look as "rich" as we are. The truth is though, because we are considered "rich" by the state education system, we must send a bunch of that oil and gas revenue to other schools. So they can build their "activity centers" with our money. And we must increase our taxes to pay for the bond election. It's known as the "Robin Hood" system, and while Rick Perry has been our governor for about a decade now, he has failed on his promise to fix it. It's not the only thing he has failed to fix. The one thing he did "fix" was a deal with a foreign country to build a superhighway through my ranch. Sorry to get OT, but my point is that sometimes small towns (and small stores) are better for us. fritz

"I think the elves may be in league with the chupacabra. I'd go looking for them, but I can't remember where to start..." The chupacabra has left me alone, because I have no chickens or goats for him to suck the blood out of. But the elves (I prefer to call them gremlins), are with me still. No, it cannot be forgetfulness. I still remember the old days, I still remember where I was on a particular day back in the past. The past is very important, because if one forgets the past, he/she ignores history. History is another word for the past, and history has a way of repeating itself. Something our elected officials need to understand. No, it has to be gremlins. And I don't know if my exterminator contract covers them. I shall check on it. fritz

It's true all right, but I thought that chart only aplied to old farts like me. Especially the part of the pie about looking for things. Sometimes, it's quicker to go to town and buy a new one. Then when you get home, you see the old one hanging on the wall. It was not there before, but now it is. I need the Ghost Busters. Today I noticed a gallon jug of metal prep sitting on the shelf with the cap off. If was on the jug yesterday. What do you think it is? fritz

Thanks, guys Makes me feel better that I am not alone. strait shooter, I shot a postal target for the board that I used to be on (before I got banned). It was military rifles, open sights only, 5 shots at a standard 100 yard target. Sand bags allowed. I started out without glasses, and I couldn't see the bull at 100 yards. I went home and got my bifocals (that I seldom wore for the same reason you said) and then was able to see the target. I shot a 6.5x55 Swede, 5 shots into 1 5/8" and claimed honorable mention. Without the glass I could not even see the target clearly while focusing on the sights. So I believe I will get several different magnification otc glasses for such tasks again. That's what the doc said to do. fritz

I had an extensive eye exam done today, and they told me I had 20/20, 20/25 vision. No sign of glaucoma or cataracts. The doc said not to waste money on prescription glasses, just buy over-the-counter reading glasses (which is what I have been doing). Said to come bask in a year or so for a new exam. Now, I asked him why is it then that I cannot see as well over iron sights, as I used to. I really didn't understand his answer, but I believe I need to get eyeglasses that focus on distances beyond reading distance. And only use them for shooting the iron sighted weapons. Or just keep using scopes. Even though there is nothing wrong with my eyes, I still cannot shoot worth a damned with open sights. Maybe it is just me. fritz

Add a touch of cosmolene ferfume, and drive them wild! When a woman wears a leather dress, A man's heart beats quicker, His throat gets dry, He goes weak in the knees and he begins to think irrationally, Ever wonder why? Because she smells like a new truck. fritz

A very good (and lenghty) discussion. What I wonder about is this--- "It's the right thing to do, but I would submit that this problem could have been solved a long time ago. ... The way I characterize it is, the Cold War ended; the loser really didn't lose." There is also the possibility, that if it ended differently, it would not have ended the cold war. Sometimes we still have to deal with the reality that we are not the Supreme power. And deals are cut to save face (and other reasons). The Cold War ended, let it lie in peace. It ended, regardless of who wants to claim to be the winner. There is really no real winner in war today. It started in Korea, then VietNam. Where next? Maybe you can tell me. fritz

Jerry, you really need to stop the destruction of your trees, by whatever means is necessary. Remember this----land with trees is worth far more than land without trees. Just ask any realtor. My land along the highway is worth around four grand per acre, because it has nice oak trees, and I have cleared the brush. Without the trees, it would be worth about half. Buyers want trees, the more the better. They can always clear out the ones they do not want. But I ain't seen a buyer cut down a tree yet, not around here. Do not underestimate the value of a tree. And consider what it costs to have one transplanted. A beaver just ain't worth it. fritz

"Probably a cousin to Sasquatch!" Possible, but a distant cousin, one who did not like the cold damp northwest. And he really cannot stand the ice of the area where Yeti lives. Remember, he has no hair. But, he is more dangerous than his cousins, he can suck the blood out of a chicken or a goat quicker than you can say "Fuzzie Wuzzie was a bear, Fuzzie Wuzzie had no hair"! fritz